


Cold

by Ivillpunchyouinthethroat



Series: Hellverse [4]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Hellverse, King of Hell Ravi, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15977627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivillpunchyouinthethroat/pseuds/Ivillpunchyouinthethroat
Summary: Wonsik sat at his throne, the stone beneath him icy cold, biting in its frigidity, even through the layers of Wonsik’s clothing.





	Cold

Wonsik sat at his throne, the stone beneath him icy cold, biting in its frigidity, even through the layers of Wonsik’s clothing.

The room’s torches were out, had been since he’d first walked in, when his mere presence had choked the life out the small flames one by one as he’d made his way to his seat.

Now, the room was dark and the air was still and the stone beneath him had never felt so lifeless, as if it were nothing but the hunk of inanimate rock it always looked to be; as if Wonsik’s flames shouldn’t have made it glow like a living, breathing thing with veins of magma that simmered power crisscrossed across the roughhewn rock.

But he had been sat like this for hours, or at least it felt like hours, Wonsik wasn’t really sure anymore, his brain had stopped calculating time since—

Since—

The heavy wooden door at the end of the room creaked suddenly open, the sound piercing into the shadowy gloom. His hands flinched, fingers tensing and his knuckles creaked under the strain, even that small amount of sudden movement causing sparks in his joints after he’d sat unmoving, unflinching, in the desolate quite of his throne room.

The door paused open, his general slipped inside, and then it was screeching closed once more, a prolonged scrape that shot through the room and set Wonsik’s teeth on edge. It made his hands fist and he relished and winced both in the full-fledged stabs of agony it shot up his ice carved fingers. It was the most he’d felt since—

“Get out.”

His voice was ragged, the already deep tone of it gargled in broken glass.

Hakyeon didn’t listen.

He only stared briefly before turning and waving his arm so that the wood of the door shimmered as it locked, tied to Hakyeon’s own power. And then his general walked towards him, towards his King.

His yellow eyes glowed in the dark of the room as if there had been actual light for them to reflect, but there was something almost delicate in their unnatural color, something glassy and shiny and that shot like lightning through the armor of numb that’d encased Wonsik since—

 And Wonsik wouldn’t have that, couldn’t have that, he—

“Get out!” He shouted.

His voice echoed broken, pitiful.

Hakyeon still did not move.

Wonsik shot up from his throne, knives stabbing into his body from being too long unmoving or maybe it was the disbeleifhurtangerfurious _broken_ he could feel start flooding into his body, into his mind, the cracks that Hakyeon had made in his numb spreading wider and wider until Wonsik’s body felt like it was going to shatter to pieces.

He grabbed Hakyeon by the lapels of his suit and there was a part of his mind that could only laugh at the irony because he’d done this once before, back when Hakyeon had first proposed something, when the tactician had smiled and told him he had a H—

He hoisted his general up, tiptoes barely skimming the floor, a snarl that was all demon and nothing else ripped savage from his throat. He tasted blood.

Hakyeon only looked at him.

The threat was an empty one anyway.

The room was still dark, his throne was still cold, his flames were still gone, and Wonsik was cracking.

He set his general down, this demon he’d known since childhood, who stood silent with his glassy eyes and his immovable features, and suddenly the hands that had grabbed at him in anger clung to him instead, fingers like claws.

Wonsik was cracking, cracking—

Hakyeon’s features finally moved from their stone carved expression.

His eyes pinched and his mouth went soft and Hakyeon had only ever looked at him like that once, when his family had—

“Don’t—” but it was too late, because in the bright of Hakyeon’s eyes there was a sorrow so deep and it was _still_ only pale shadow of what Wonsik’s could feel breaking inside him.

Wonsik _cracked._

His knees buckled, taking Hakyeon with him as his shield of numb finally fell to pieces.

There was a sound—something so wretched—that bounced off the throne room walls and it took Wonsik a few moments to realize that it’d come from him, that it was still coming from him.

And his mind finally supplied what he’d made himself numb to forget.

Taekwoon.

His Hellhound.

His Leo.

His _mate._

He was—

Another sound, a wail this time, and there was ash in his lungs and blood in his throat, and a grief so deep in his body that the spot in the middle of his chest _ached_ with it—

He was the King of Hell—he was the King of Hell and he was sobbing like a child into Hakyeon’s arms as the demon did nothing but hold him, a hand at his back and another at his neck.

“He’s—”

The word was choked out and Hakyeon only held him tighter.

“He’s—”

“Shh Wonsik—”

“He’s _dead._ ” Wonsik finally spat, words burning acid in his mouth.

It brought on a fresh new wave of agony, right when Wonsik hadn’t believed he couldn’t feel anything greater.

“He’s dead,” he repeated, voice small. “He’s—”

But Hakyeon only held him tighter and Wonsik let himself be held.

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I said we'd meet the Hyogie and the Bean in the the next snippet but then I started listening to my sad ost playlist and this happened instaed aoigrjoaer
> 
> I'm still not sure whether it's actually going to be part of the, granted very loose, storyline I had going on with the other three snippets before this so it might just be a stand alone. I guess it'll all depend on my mood next time I open up a word doc lol
> 
> As always comments are welcome!


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